


Concepts

by kyuubi_wench



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Meditation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 08:10:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyuubi_wench/pseuds/kyuubi_wench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a bit of Tony/ Bruce (friendship) interactions. Done as an introspection piece to peek inside Bruce's mind...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Concepts

**Author's Note:**

> A friend of mine (Olorisstra) and I were talking about the trend of "Bruce needs zen" fic running around, in blatant contrast to the fact that Bruce manages himself by running on anger all the time. So, conversation lost to the history of Skype-chat, i scribbled this up from memory based on how Bruce Banner might be- if properly based on his character as presented from Avengers and what we presumed of someone who pretty much runs on anger 24/7 to be able to keep themselves sane... and in control.

Bruce inhaled, settling down into a classic meditation pose. Dropping into the depths of his mind, past all the science and math and general worries that consumed daily life, was a thick haze. Thick, because he could never push the Hulk completely down. No, the alter- ego born of gamma and his ID was not something he could ignore, something that stayed with him constantly. Once he’d accepted that, well, life hadn’t gotten easier, not by any stretch.

But he’d learned how to deal with it better, at least. He’d come to a truce, of sorts.

The roar from the corner of his mind was muted, more a greeting than a challenge. Bruce inhaled another slow, deep breath, feeling the eerie calm around him seeping into the haze.

He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said his trick was always being angry. There was _so much_ to be angry about in his life- the loss of his career, the constant stress of the chase that Ross had started, he pathetic state of so much of the world. Hell, men like Ross and Fury could move thousands of dollars’ worth of equipment on a whim, command soldiers and assassins like most people ordered breakfast. And yet, large chunks of the world had to make do with whatever they had, working their lives away for a small measure of life’s blessings.

Often it was still more than Bruce could claim for himself.

The door creaked open. Bruce heaved a sigh, even as Hulk growled in the back of his head. Probably Stark, one of the few people who dared open closed doors without knocking, much to Bruce’s regular frustration. Not that he ever said anything-  it would only encourage the man. He cracked open his eyes.

“Hey Bruce are you doing anything later? ’Cause I had this idea earlier and I thought you’d like to get out of the tower a while and go do something, just to get out a bit. And just-” Tony paused for a moment, turning to get a better look at Bruce’s face. Bruce had been tracking him back and forth across the room, and opened his eyes more when Tony stopped moving. “Hey Bruce, you okay? Your eyes are just a little green there, buddy.”

Let Tony think about that for a minute. Bruce closed his eyes and sunk back down into the haze, not quite as deep as the first time. Hulk grumbled back at him, and Bruce sent back a firm ‘not now’.  Hulk settled back and Bruce dragged himself out of his mind, a process made smoother by years of practice.

“Nice party trick, Brucie. You better now?”

Party trick, his ass. Bruce gave a tiny smile. “Better.” He flexed his hands, felt an echo of the Hulk’s bulky fingers, ready to tear and bruise and smash. “If you say the convention that’s been advertised the last two months and going on all weekend, the answer is no. At least not tonight, okay.”  

He knew he shoved maybe a bit too much exhaustion into his voice, but he was in the middle of something and Tony had _interrupted_ , damn him. Every man needs personal time. What about the man with ‘breath-taking anger management issues’?

Tony hesitated just a moment before nodding. “Sure, sure. Sorry, Bruce. You know where to find me if you need me, right? Right.” He turned toward the door, paused for a second, turned back. “You sure you’re good, Bruce?”

This line was more sincere, and Bruce gave a tired smile. He didn’t have to act for that, he _was_ tired. He needed some time to himself, thank you. “I’m good. I’ll let you know if you can help with anything.”

“Okay. Sure. Later, Bruce.”

Bruce waited as Tony left, slowly counted to fifty, then sunk back down into his mind. This was his most personal time, after all.

And if the skin on his fingertips  turned a little green occasionally, well, he had it under control. As much control as he ever had, considering his situation.

Which, really, was that any sort of control at all?


End file.
